Dir: Wes Craven
Cast: Neve Campbell, Skeet Ulrich, Matthew Lillard,
Rose McGowan, Courteney Cox, David Arquette,
Jamie Kennedy, Drew Barrymore, Liev Schreiber
Rated R, Approx: 111 Minutes
Dimension Films DVD
Don't Open The Door.
Don't Try To Escape."
more than an obvious self-referential
thriller disguised as a slasher film.
of film goers seemed to think that poking fun at the 80s slasher cliches was something new. Not only had it been
done before, it had been done much better before - Sleepaway Camp 2 and Popcorn were far more enjoyable
homages...shit, even Saturday the 14th and Student Bodies had some redeeming values! Even more astounding
is the fact that the once great Wes Craven was behind the camera.
at the helm though, this comes off as nothing more than self indulgent drek. Scream has no sense of compatibility
with the films that it's trying to parody, instead it places itself on a pedestal as it play like the be all and end all of
slasher films. It's trying to put down horror movies while at the same time distancing itself from them. The 'in jokes'
are easily some of the stupidest lines I've ever heard in a movie. These resulted in legions of know it all smart-asses
running around with the remarkable knowledge that Dee Wallace Stone was in ET and The Howling and most
importantly that Jason wasn't the killer in the original Friday the 13th. Worst of all is the spill over audience for the
classic, Halloween. Where exactly were all these fans the year before? If Craven hadn't driven his point home
enough at this point, he sticks in a line about all the A Nightmare on Elm Street sequels suckling (I know he claims
this was in Kevin Williamson's script beforehand, but I just don't believe that...or if it was, I bet he loved it). I wonder
why there was no mention of his own sequel to The Hills Have Eyes? Honestly, if Craven thinks so little of the
genre that made him what he is then he should leave and try not to let the door hit his ass on the way out.
in a mysterious killer, a Scooby-Doo like ending and that's pretty much it. The lowlights include Jamie Kennedy as
the movie expert and Matthew Lillard at his most annoying. Kennedy spends the movie running around spouting off
the 'rules' of a horror movie. His extensive knowledge though, sounds as if his genre research was based on the
tepid horror selection of a Blockbuster Video. Lillard is just about unbearable, delivering some of the worst lines in
the worst manner.
to grow up. He's trying to direct teen movies in his late 50s and hide behind a deconstructuralist concept. All he
really succeeded in doing was creating a showcase for the pretty faces of the WB type stars and infesting the genre
with a wave of self referential smart ass teeny bopper slashers (most of which involved Kevin Williamson in one way
or another).
compliments go, that's all I can muster for this one though. I'll take the tragic Mari Collingwood over Sidney Prescott
any day. While Mari was interesting not only as a character but as multi-layered symbol of innocence and youthful
experimentation; Sidney is an embarrassingly one dimensional introverted brat.
overall slickness of the direction that bothers me. I would not expect Craven to have kept the raw power of Last
House on the Left or The Hills Have Eyes throughout his career. I understand that people evolve as artists, but
this is no excuse for this mess. Take George A. Romero for instance - his career spans from Night of the Living
Dead to Jack's Wife to The Dark Half to Bruiser. Granted he hasn't hit the bullseye with every film, but his films
are none the less always compelling and thought provoking. The savage feel of NOTLD is nowhere to be found in
the recent slickly produced Bruiser but he never sinks to the level of insulting the genre and directing feature length
Party of Five episodes.
derivative nature of the horror film but somehow never finds the time to admit that Scream in pretty derivative in its
own right. The infamous opening sequence is blatant in stealing shots almost directly from Mario Bava's 'The
Telephone' segment of the classic Black Sabbath. The end is even worse, almost a completely shameless
knockoff of Happy Birthday to Me!
this movie a lot. As cranky as I seem with this review, I would like to stress the idea that it is not intended as a
personal slam to anyone who likes the movie. I do not consider anyone 'less' of a horror fan for liking it...perhaps
they see something in it that I'm missing.
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